Episode 5: she crept back to her room

She also knew that he was way out of her league, especially with his track record of dating rich and famous women, mostly models or heiresses. Although she knew he cared about her because of their shared affection for Joseph, she was no model and not an heiress.

Owen had no cousins of his own, but he did have an indulged half-sister, Alice, that she adored.

Alice was six years younger than her and may have been spoiled but she loved Owen and was always kind to Abigail. Like Owen, Alice never acted as if she was privileged even though he made sure she never wanted for anything.

When his father remarried, Alice was the product. She was a very pretty and vibrant sixteen-year-old, and from what Joseph had told her, lived with Owen because their parents were busy jet setting around the globe. It was more stable for her, Joseph said. It was obvious that he adored his baby sister.

Abigail always thought his affection toward her was more along that line, but if she didn’t have Joseph, he probably wouldn’t notice her from a hole in the ground.

“Have you given any thought about what you are going to do too little cheetah?” His deep calm voice jarred her out of her thoughts.

She settled her red-rimmed gaze on him and shook her head. She hadn’t heard that nickname in years. She never knew why he called her that and never had the nerve to ask him. He always seemed so untouchable.

Masculine to the bone and drop-dead gorgeous is what her friends used to say and she never disagreed. He was that, in spades. The man stood over six feet and carried an undeniable air of virile masculinity and charisma.

He ran his father’s fortune five hundred company with an unyielding sculpted discipline and was known for his cutthroat methods that crushed competition beneath an iron fist.

Yet, he sat across from her as calm and concerned as she had ever seen only moments after they buried her cousin.

However, she knew that Owen was just as grief-stricken as she was, especially after that incident she witnessed a few nights ago.

The night before last she was walking by Joseph’s room and saw him. He was sitting on the side of her cousin’s bed hunched over with his elbows on his knees and his head bent with his face

in one of his hands and a photo of the three of them in the other. It was profound because up until then you’d think composure was his middle name.

He never showed anyone that side of him except maybe Joseph. Maybe that was why they were so close.

Usually, he was the epitome of self-control, but this, this had her awestruck and after that left, she felt devastated for him. Her eyes flicked to the photo.

She remembered that day they all went fishing together. It was an amazing amount of fun and although they didn’t catch anything, it was as if they were as close as a family could get.

They laughed and acted as if nothing in the world could affect them. Owen managed to toss her in the creek soaking her completely.

She pinched her eyes shut to erase the memory and stop the tears and then focused them on Owen’s back again.

He wasn’t weeping, but he was distraught. It pained her to realize that the man had lost someone special to him also and she was so devastated that she never thought he might be hurting too.

Yet all along he’d been a textbook measure of support making sure his focus was on her and her grief. It was how she knew him so she didn’t even consider his feelings.

She felt selfish at that moment, seeing that tall seemingly indestructible man grieving over someone he loved, alone, just to avoid her further anguish. Her heart clenched in pain for him and knowing he wouldn’t like her to see him like this, she crept back to her room.

It was obvious he had thought that she had gone to bed already, and if the door wasn’t ajar, she wouldn’t have known it hit him as hard as it did.

It was one of the hardest things she ever had to do, walking away from that scene. She wanted so much to go in there and wrap her arms around him, but she knew Owen.

He was raised differently from them and outward appearances were essential to his class. Publically he wasn’t used to sympathy or expression of emotion that was beyond socially acceptable.

Most times his expression looked to be chiseled in stone, except for the obvious intelligence in those stunning golden eyes of his. With her and Joseph, he was a little more expressive, though not much.

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